It was the best of beards, it was the worst of beards.

My beard has finally decided to eat my face. It hungers for more.

Life is a beard grown by an idiot, full of mud and bread crumbs, signifying nothing.

And so we grow on, beards against the current, shorn ceaselessly into the past.

My Beard (May 28 2010-June 19 2010)
Goodbye, old friend.